Nightclub Noir

Purple grey smoke swirled stagnant in the air, it bellowed along the hallways and obscured the deeper recesses of the club. Very fitting for the booming bass that reverberated against the blackened brick walls and made Irvyll's heart skip a beat. This place was on his radar for almost a month. Rumours that the patrons of this specific club would be associated with a potential illegal betting group, one he was keen in doing a story on.

After peeling himself from the heavy fog, Irvyll found himself inside of a BDSM nightclub. The music playing was deafening, the flickering light display reacting to every kick and snare of the track.  The club was divided into three sections. One section was divided into private play rooms for guests, while another was an open dance floor for the DJ to entertain with dark sensual tracks. The area he was searching for though, was the bar.

Finding a seat to himself, he took the liberty of jotting down some information on the bartenders working tonight and the density of the venue in comparison to potential connections. He swept the dancefloor for any seeming security figures that might stick out, or anyone particularly important looking. But tonight's guests just looked like the regular clientele for a place like this. Some rave goers, a few master and pet pairs looking for potential partners to play with, and hookup artists bouncing around the club hitting on anyone that piques their interest. It didn't take long before someone sat beside Irvyll, forcing him to end his scribbling abruptly.

The man that sat directly beside him didn't seem to pay him any mind, which was clearly bait to get him to speak first on the matter. Irvyll bit, clearly he had something he wanted to talk about. "Well, it is certainly interesting running into you here. What can I do for you Darlet?"

Darlet gave Irvyll a side eye, a sly grin stretching across his face as he leaned closer to talk to the bun. "I know right, I couldn't have expected to see you in this kind of place. Never took you for the dom n' sub type. But I think we know enough about each other, either you're here to watch or you have something you're looking for. So, spill it. What hot topic are you trying to unveil for your audience?"

Irvyll nodded curtly, flipping his journal back to the beginning. "Fine. If you're so inclined, I am on the hunt for information about an underground fighting circuit. Specifically, I want to get into contact with a host named Kaush. I was told he frequents this club."

Darlet folded his arms, tapping his foot against the bar counter impatiently. "Really now. Who is your source?"

"You and I both know I cannot expose my trusted informants. It would be highly unprofessional to put them at risk like that." Irvyll spoke as a matter of fact, flipping further through the journal in front of him. 

Darlet scoffed. "Okay. Tell Arrie to stop selling out Jousah's people just because you mod for her. I know that Jousah has a bunch of interesting criminal connections, but that doesn't mean you can just up and interview them out of the blue." He waved over a bartender, they turned to nod before pouring and sliding a shot glass his way. "And you really can't just push yourself into dangerous groups like that. You are an unbiased journalist, yeah, but that doesn't mean these people enjoy you snooping through their livelihood."

Irvyll nodded slowly, turning to lean on the chair and stare up at Darlet blankly. "Okay then. What do you know then? Perhaps you can fill in the gaps. Unless you are just getting in my way, in which case. I will keep looking for Kaush. I plan on getting the full story. Are dolls fighting to the death for a paycheck? Is this place a way to snuff out those that aren't profitable to the bottom dollar?" 

Darlet shook his head quickly, swishing his hand to dismiss these conspiracies. "Hell no. It's just like, illegal betting I think. Kaush is a street fighter for real, and he has probably done some bad shit in his time. But the fights are all safe, and consensual. They even got medical staff to keep shit in check when someone gets their faces busted open. But the betting on fights is probably super rigged or something, I dunno." He shrugged, unsure what else he could offer to the journalist. "I can't say I've gotten too involved with it, but Jousah brought me along as his plus one once when Kaush invited him. Two guys enter the ring, and it goes until one of them submits or can't stand up anymore."

Irvyll follows along, writing down every word verbatim. If this was the best he was getting tonight, he didn't mind too much. It was just detailed enough to hold his readers interests until he could follow up with the real deep cuts. "Okay. That is a little better. But, perhaps I could just ask Jousah to introduce me."

Darlet laughed, throwing the shot back, letting it flow down his throat before looking back to Irvyll. "You know what. If you can hold a conversation with Jousah, I'll commend you. But don't be too butt hurt if he makes fun of you, or says something mean about you being such a fucking nerd. Shit, I am pretty cool myself and even I'm not safe from his bullshit. But tolerate that, and he will probably get you front row seats to anything you want. This place is where the fighters come to afterparty, if you can attend a fight, and follow them here. You'll get that interview. But uh, just beware. Kaush isn't very forthcoming about public appearances, and unless you catch him early, he might slip away into one of the private rooms for the rest of the night. He is very hush hush on sexual partners and the like, but I always heard he was rough." 

Irvyll noted this down as well. How relevant this Kaush's performance in bed was to the greater story was yet to be determined, but he'd take any info that he could get. "Hmm. Well, since I'm here. Please, tell me everything you can. Perhaps I could interview some of his previous partners."

Darlet shrugged, throwing up a gesture to the bartender again signaling another round of drinks for both of them. "Well. I could tell you about how they gathered up a group for arm wrestling to determine who bottomed to the rest for the night. That dude bragged all week about it."